


Of Security Guards and Consultants

by shadowed_sunsets



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Professions, Alternate Universe, Gen, exchangelock 2014, security consultant Sherlock, security guard John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowed_sunsets/pseuds/shadowed_sunsets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson is having a particularly bad day. At the security guard post he only just started at high-security bank, in the last hour he's met a brilliant but sarcastic man pretending to be an employee then revealed himself to be a security consultant… and now there's four robbers holding the employees and customers hostage that John has to deal with. </p><p>And he's not yet sure if this 'Sherlock Holmes' will be of help, or just a hindrance. So far he's betting on hindrance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Security Guards and Consultants

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for alicemilford for the exchange lock au exchange.
> 
> I'm so sorry this is nearly late, but I really hope you like it. There were many alternate professions I considered putting Sherlock and John in, but this appealed to me the most. Plus I've always loved the idea of them meeting during a bank robbery.
> 
> The rest should be coming soon, I promise. I just wanted to get what I have posted so you had something for the promised posting dates.
> 
> Like I said, I hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think :)
> 
> Happy readying!

The problem with all these Head of Security types was that not only were they idiots, they were idiots overconfident and proud of their own idiocy.

And every time he managed to beat their “infallible” security, he had to explain how it wasn’t a trick. He had actually beat it properly without any cheating or tricks. Which, of course, they didn’t believe. So he had to walk them through every single way their security was lacking or had lapses. And because there were always so many it usually took at least nearly an hour, since no matter how insistent they were, every system had something wrong with it. It just took them a long time to believe he was telling the truth.

And more often than not, they didn’t fix the weaknesses he’d found. Or they just thought they had but all of the errors were still there. So he had to go through it all over again. Idiots.

Mycroft, of course, did his best to smooth things over when the security managers became so upset they threatened to sue him or blackmail him or even throw him in jail. Not that Sherlock even needed his brother’s help, Mycroft just made a career of sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong.

Sherlock could take care of these people himself. These idiots with their tedious, wheeling minds. If anyone, just one person, would listen. But no one cared about his methods. They just cared about the results. And as long as he did what they asked, and didn’t mouth off or say anything unrelated to the task, he was fine and would continue getting jobs.

Though Sherlock actually really wanted to be a private detective, he did enjoy most of these jobs. But it wasn’t worth having to keep his mouth shut and play nice just to get them. He wasn’t desperate, he just liked the challenges and puzzles they offered- however brief.

It was the dealing with thick, prideful idiots that made this line of work so difficult.

“Listen, Mr. Hanson, I do not care if-”

“It’s Hafton, and you better damn well care given how much I’m paying you-!”

Sherlock sighed, loudly, and just couldn’t help himself. “Your money is what I am trying to help you protect Mr. Hanson,” Sherlock bit sharply, trying very hard not to shout. “However, if you won’t listen to me I cannot help you. I’ve given you my suggestions, I have no control over if you take them or use them.”

“Your suggestions are ridiculous, it’s impossible for so many things to be wrong with our system,” the idiotic Mr. Hansom protested vehemently, his face growing even more red as his voice rose. “You’re just trying to make it look like all of this is wrong so we’ll pay you more money. You think you’re so amazing because you know all of these smart things. Well,” he sneered, beet red, “you’re wrong.”

Sherlock could only take so much idiocy in one day. And this man destroyed all of his patience, what little he had. “All right, don’t take my suggestions then. I’ve done what you paid me for, so I’ll leave now.”

“Fine, leave if you want to so badly,” the idiot offered, crossing his arms across his chest. “But you won’t be receiving any money from this company. We don’t need your help, we’ll find someone else. Someone better.”

Sherlock snorted. “There is no one better. However,” he said, turning away so his back was to the pathetic imbecile, “feel free to waste your time looking.”

The man yelled abuse at his back, insulting him not even creatively. But Sherlock just continued walking until he came to the front door that led out to the street.

He had somewhat enjoyed this puzzle, but the last thing he needed was their money. He didn’t take these jobs for the pay. And this one hadn’t been as exciting as he’d hoped, not as much as others he’d taken. A four at most, but probably more like a three. And he rarely took a three.

Lesson learned.

~~

A week later Sherlock left his bedroom and wandered out into his makeshift living room to the unpleasant discovery of his brother perched on the edge of the only chair Sherlock owned. Sherlock glared at his brother, decided not to be the one to speak first, and crossed the room to the kitchen. He wrapped his dressing gown more tightly around his body, there was always a draft here, and started trying to make tea.

From the living room Mycroft sighed and tapped his umbrella on the floor. “Sherlock,” Mycroft called with an irritated sigh, “You will not ignore me all day. Eventually you’ll have to speak.”

Sherlock merely snorted and continued with the tea.

Mycroft remained silent for all of a few minutes before he spoke again. “An acquaintance of mine has requested your services at his bank. In the past month there have been two attempted break-ins and one successful taking from a security box. As you may imagine, this has him concerned. He would like you to come and see what weakness you can find to resolve this. He’s eager to know everything you can find.”

Sherlock, in the midst of mixing his tea a final time, laughed sharply. “He may think he does, but in the end he’ll only want a quick fix to end this, alleged, thief. He won’t listen, just like everyone else.”  
Mycroft raised his head, one hand resting in his lap while the other gripped his ridiculous ever present umbrella. “This is an urgent request, Sherlock. I feel he’s in rather a rush to make these improvements before anything else happens. He doesn’t want further incidents.”

Sherlock set the two mugs down on the pile of books he used in place of a table when he needed to put things places. He made a point of not handing one over to Mycroft. “If your ‘acquaintance’ is in such a hurry, then he can find someone else.”

Mycroft treated him to a scolding look, one Sherlock was all too used to being on the receiving end of. Then he leaned forward and took the mug closer to his side of the stack of books. Only after he tested it did he reply, “He may be able to find someone, but no one else would find as many issues as you. You know that. He wants you, Sherlock. And this is an excellent opportunity for you.”

“For wasting my time, yes,” Sherlock disagreed, scoffing. He picked up his mug and drank the tea, taking his time so he wouldn’t have to say another word.

“I know you won’t agree because I am the one asking you to do this, but I believe it will be a learning experience for you.” Mycroft continued, apparently perfectly content with Sherlock not talking. “He designed this building with the highest security system available, Sherlock. No other place has the same system, therefore this is a one time opportunity for you to test such a system.”

Sherlock set the mug down on the top book then shifted so he was laying across the length of the sofa. “Not interested,” he declared.

Mycroft watched him for several long, unending minutes, and Sherlock pointedly did not look over at his brother. He didn’t need whatever idiotic intimidation tricks Mycroft would try.

Sherlock took the long silence to finish his tea, as Mycroft watched him intently and Sherlock ignored him. Then finally Mycroft pushed himself out of his chair and to his feet. “I sense there’s no point in my staying here any longer. I have many other things I could be doing in different places where I would be more welcome that are not here.” Mycroft brushed off the front of his jacket and frowned at the imaginary lint. “Places where people will actually listen and value my opinion. But I will see you again soon.”

Sherlock waved his hand at Mycroft as if that would help make his brother go away faster. When it didn’t help, he just said sternly, “If you’re going to leave, Mycroft, then please do so. Don’t let me stop you.”

“You’re not, brother. I will take my leave now.” Mycroft slid his hand into the breast pocket of his suit to pull out a small off-white rectangular card. He held it up between two fingers then slid the card onto the book just in front of Sherlock. “In case you change your mind.”

Sherlock made a scoffing sound, carefully studying the cushion in front of him. “Won’t say it again, now go away.”

Mycroft practically radiated smugness as he turned and walked out of the room, picking his way through the piles of trash Sherlock had laying around on the floor. “Do please at least try to pretend you are a human being, Sherlock. It isn’t necessary for you to live like this.”

Sherlock hummed loudly. He didn’t care if Mycroft didn’t approve of where he was living or what he was doing. Mycroft didn’t hold any power over him. Not any more.

And he wouldn’t take Mycroft’s offer, even as intriguing as it sounded. Testing such a unique system wasn’t worth owing his brother any kind of favor.

 

Later that afternoon Sherlock called his last remaining connection to the Yard- the only one there who listened to him even half the time- but Lestrade was feelingly irritatingly unhelpful. When that line of opportunity was closed to him, Sherlock checked his website for any remotely interesting consulting requests. But all that seemed to have dried up as well. Sherlock tried to see if he could beat his current time cracking the practice safe he kept in his bedroom, but after several tries it became obvious he couldn’t focus enough to reach anywhere near his record.

And the entire time that stupid, ridiculous card was nagging at him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, thinking of all the possible tests such a system might offer.

He was bored, and there was nothing else available to entertain him.

Finally Sherlock gave in, slamming the door of the safe closed- only for it to bounce off the frame- and stormed back into the living room. He snatched up the card, dug his mobile out from between the cushions, and dialed the number on the card.

It rang three times before someone picked up on the other end. “Hello, this is Sherlock Holmes. I’m looking for a Mr. Whitaker.”

~~~

John Watson, former Captain in the RAMC, found himself in the unfortunate position of being bored. He tapped his fingers restlessly on the momentarily bare counter, which was only clean because just earlier he’d given in to his need to tidy the mess left from last night.

But now all there was to focus on was the two security screens where nothing had happened for the last three hours. All he had done this shift was sit still and upright in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t seem to exist.

This was the exact opposite of how it had been in Afghanistan. No, he didn’t miss the the flying bullets or allies and enemies alike falling where they stood from wounds most of the time he couldn’t heal or save them from. He was a soldier, but also a doctor. It was his duty to protect people no matter whose side they were on. Even if people didn’t like it.

But he’d left that behind in Afghanistan with a bullet to his shoulder and no more future as a doctor. He couldn’t protect his fellow soldiers in the desert anymore, and he couldn’t protect his countrymen back here at home. He was completely worthless in both professions he’d chosen for himself.

Once he’d come home he’d had to find something to do. He couldn’t just sit in his small, dull room day after day staring at the wall and doing nothing. It wasn’t safe to be alone in his head with all his thoughts and memories mixing together and going around in constant circles.

So, as dull as it sounded, when he saw a job listing for a post as a security guard John had quickly sent off his resume and application. At least it was something, and he’d be protecting people.

A week later he heard back from the company that his application had been accepted. It was somewhat of a relief, since it was something for him to do, to keep him occupied. But it still wasn’t what he wanted to be doing.

The first few days went fine, the other guards seemed to enjoy having a new coworker around. They showed him the secrets of the job and the things he needed to know. It helped him fit in. 

But it still wasn’t the same as being part of the war.

He made up for it by trying to spend most of the time on his shift walking around the building stretching his legs and checking every room and hallway. At least that way he felt like he was actually doing something.

But then his supervisor decided to confine him to the security desk, watching tape from every single camera in the building. He could only leave to walk around every other hour, and wasn’t allowed out onto the main floor. That was left to his coworkers who were given that freedom because they were veterans of the job and their permits and training had cleared. John wasn’t allowed that privilege yet.

His security training had been tedious but necessary, making sure he was completely prepared for this job. As if he hadn’t been on any patrols in the desert, keeping his fellow soldiers safe from hostiles. But companies liked crossing their ‘t’s and dotting their ‘i’s, so John didn’t raise a fuss. He’d also need to reissue his weapons license and training so he’d be able to use the weapon he’d brought back with him. He never really felt safe without it.

The entire building was really a little too extravagant for his tastes. The marble, polished wood floors, gilded walls, and security cameras were for people who liked showing off their wealth and felt comfortable having everything they could ever want at their fingertips. When John went to a bank all he wanted was to withdraw or deposit money. These people were in an entirely different class of wealth all together.

Luckily inside the staff areas of the building it was a little more normal and less grandiose. For as long as he stayed in those areas he would be fine. But as soon as he finished his training John would be out patrolling the floor and watching customers. If security was his primary concern, the way the bank itself and the main floor especially were laid out was a nightmare. But John had always enjoyed challenges. And this was a hell of one.

Every day he protected people, and would be challenged. If he couldn’t be an army doctor back in Afghanistan or a general doctor here, this was a passable substitute. Well, passable for now. If this worked out.

The only problem with banks, especially high security ones like this, was nothing exciting rarely happened.

~~

Sherlock strode up the front steps of the bank, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. If he wanted to blend in, and not be noticed as he slipped through the system, he needed to look the part. He wasn’t really accustomed to dressing like this, or at least not quite as nicely. But in the future he might have to continue. Or at least keep the coat; it was very nice.

The glass door pushed open easily at his touch, and Sherlock took his first step inside the building. It was as overly and ridiculously grand as he’d expected given its clientele. People with extravagant wealth showing it off to their fellows. A useless waste of money.

He wound the scarf more tightly around his throat and headed directly for the employee-only entrance. The place had been idiotic or absent-minded enough to put their blueprints online, where anyone with decent enough knowledge or skills to get into the employee access of their site could find and download them.

Sherlock had studied the blueprints the day before, and memorized them so he knew where he would need to go and what route to take. Most thieves, if they didn’t go through the front door proclaiming themselves to be thieves, chose a more discreet approach. One known to more seasoned criminals was pretending to be an employee of the target, dressing as an employee and having the confidence to act like you belonged. That was the trick of it really, pretending to belong.

The entrance was at the end of a long hallway, shining walls and smooth polished floors leading to a single metal door with a keypad set in the wall beside it.

Sherlock walked up to the door and, after casting a quick glance around to make sure he was alone, turned his attention to the keypad. It was obviously new, one of the improvements they’d installed. But not up to date enough. It was merely a card reader with a pin code attached, not even a biometric scanner or anything advanced.

Barely worth his time.

Sherlock pulled the card he’d borrowed from an employee he’d passed earlier- hanging from their belts, really, how was that safe at all- from his pocket and slid it through the card reader. It beeped at him once, and a panel slid back to reveal a keypad.

This was the trickier part. Even if the pin was only four numbers, there were thousands of possibilities. And out of all of those, he had to find the right one. Of course theoretically with this system he should have three attempts to enter the correct number. But it wasn’t a challenge if he couldn’t get it right the first time.

Sherlock considered the woman he’d taken the badge from. She would know better than to choose her birthdate, and not dim enough to use ‘1234’ like some imbeciles. There were undoubtedly company policies about that. But she would use something that was easy to remember. 

Knowing he was running out of time, Sherlock turned the badge over to look for any clues. When he saw what had been written in small print in one of the corners, Sherlock smiled. Then he raised his hand and pressed three keys on the pad. 

A heartbeat later the reader beeped at him and there was a quiet ‘click’ of locks unlocking themselves.

Grinning now, Sherlock put his hand on the metal surface of the door and pushed. It swung open silently and easily at his touch, and Sherlock took the opportunity to slip through.

The hallway on the other side of the door was slightly less grandiose. But there was still a polished hallway and blindingly bright walls. Sherlock set his gaze forward and started walking determinedly down this new hallway. It was shorter than the first one, and soon Sherlock found himself facing an electronic barred metal gate.

For the benefit of the cameras placed along the hallway at regular intervals near the columns, Sherlock turned to the keypad installed beside the gate. His research had signified this was a five digit code, changed to a new random sequence every week. Well the designers liked to believe it was a random string of numbers but in reality nothing was completely random. Every system had faults, no matter how supposedly perfectly designed they were.

Sherlock raised a hand and typed in five numbers on the keypad. A second later the gate blared brief and low then retracted into the wall allowing Sherlock to pass.

According to the system designs there was only one more door and he would be to the vault. This last door was a chain-link gate, with yet again the same keypad and code. Really, as supposedly sophisticated this system was, all you needed was one employees code and security badge to get through everything. Even if the card wasn’t yours.

No wonder the security manager had requested his services. This system wouldn’t keep even the most idiotic criminal out.

Sherlock came to the last door just before the vault, a fairly pathetic excuse for a gate. It didn’t appear very secure. He keyed in the same code on this pad again, and the door swung open towards him with a loud metal rattle.

He caught the edge of the door as it came close to him, then held it open just enough for him to get past. The door stayed where he left it, still slightly open just in case. It was always a good idea to leave yourself an escape route.

On the other side of the door was a narrow white-washed brick hallway, barely wide enough for two people to pass. Through the hallway was a small, concrete room with metal shelves along the three walls. And on the shelves were stacks of wrapped bills, piled high.

The vault.

Not the grand, main vault. That would be where security and the police expected any potential criminal or thief to focus on and steal from. But the real prize would be this smaller, less secure vault used as extra storage for the patrons money.

This room was smaller than the main vault, so there wasn’t as much in here as in the main vault. But if anyone did manage to break in here it would still be quite a taking. If a thief was as familiar with the bank layout as Sherlock had become within several hours it was an easy score.

He walked over to the shelves and picked up one of the stacks of bills at random from the top of the pile. Running his thumb over the end of the bills, separating them, Sherlock spotted halfway through the stack an ink pack hidden between two bills. At least the bank had gotten that right, all though for anyone looking for it the pack was pretty obvious.

Sherlock dropped the stack of bills, with ink pack still in tact, into his pocket and turned away. The security manager, as thick as he undoubtedly was, would want physical proof Sherlock had gotten this far and had actually been in the vault. He glanced briefly at the rest of the shelves piled high with bills before he turned fully around and walked back to the gate.

The gate latched closed behind him with a quiet metal ‘click’ after he pushed it back into place, and the keypad ‘beep’ed at him as it reengaged. 

Smiling to himself Sherlock continued walking down the hallway to the next door. He wasn’t being as careful on his way back out of the bank since it didn’t matter if anyone saw him now seeing as his job was complete.

The second door was just as easy to get back through; apparently no code was needed for going from the vault back to the main floor. The doors simply reengaged and locked behind you as a person walked through them. Which meant once anyone successfully made their way into the vault, there was nothing stopping them from getting back out with whatever they had taken. They were safe and free.

Sherlock was beginning to think maybe he should just let any potential thieves rob this place. The security was so weak as to be nearly nonexistent, and the bank was practically asking to be taken for their money. This system was nowhere near as unfailable as the bank security manager and system developed claimed it to be. He had been called in far too late.

Sherlock now found himself at one end of the hallway where the other end was a door leading out onto the main floor of the bank. All he had to do was walk out the door, blend in amongst the crowd of customer and employees, and pass through the front doors onto the street.

Past the door Sherlock could see people walking by, not even glancing down to where Sherlock was standing brazenly out in the open. So blind, not wanting to see anything they didn’t want to or that didn’t involve them.

He scoffed quietly, glancing around the hallway, then slid his hands into the pockets of his coat and began walking. Sherlock didn’t walk all the way to the door leading out onto the main floor, instead he paused in the middle of the hallway at the intersection with a smaller, narrower hallway. According to the blueprints the hallway led around the back of the bank parallel to the main vault, an easy shortcut to getting to the main holding area of the bank.

In a moments decision Sherlock turned on his heel and went down the smaller second hallway instead. Technicaly he had completed what his contract requested of him, but he was infinitely curious. He wanted to see just how easy the main vault was to get into after all. Just so his report would be completely thorough.

His footsteps echoed on the surface of the hallway, loud in the narrow space. The walls were peeling here, the grandeur fading away over the persistence of time and lack of care. They pretended for the customers, the wealthy patrons of the bank who confidently walked the hallways outside. But the employees didn’t seem to matter as much to the bank. Maybe they should start looking at the employees as potential robbers, horrible working conditions and all.

“Hey, you!”

Sherlock slowed his pace at the call before finally coming to a halt, shoes squeaking in response. He’d suspected the call was aimed at him, but he didn’t want to be obvious about not belonging. He needed to fit in with the other employees and pretend to be one of them. Even if he had just likely gotten called out by one.

Sherlock took a breath, pasted a smile on his face, and turned.

~~

John had been sitting in his chair, watching feeds from around the building for most of the morning. Supposedly according to his supervisor he needed more training and experience before he was allowed to walk around the floors. So in the meantime he was relegated to the exciting task of monitoring the feeds.

Luckily he still had wonderful, understanding coworkers. Jessica had just returned from a coffee run over her break, and Tom kept the staff room well stocked with snacks and treats. John quickly learned those two in particular were godsends.

John took a sip of his wonderful steaming coffee and toed his chair back around to face the screens. Just in time to see a tall man in a dark expensive coat and curly dark hair walking down one of the inner employee hallways of the building.

The man fit in almost perfectly with the rest of the banks patrons. John wouldn’t have given him a second look, if he wasn’t walking through one of the employee only areas of the building near the security vaults. John leaned in closer to the screen, trying to see the man more clearly. It didn’t look like he was wearing an employee badge anywhere visible on his person, which was against policy. And although he did look like a customer, he didn’t exactly look like an employee.

John set the coffee down on the desk between the stacks of paper and quickly rose to his feet. This man was definitely worth investigating. At least to see what he was doing sneaking around the back hallways of the bank.

He adjusted the jacket of his uniform and turned, following the quickest route to the hallway where he’d seen the man. Luckily the guard desk wasn’t too far from the hallways by the vaults.

John pushed through the door into a hallway by the break room, then took a few steps further to the double doors that led to the next hallway where the man had last been standing.

The man was still there, if a few paces further down the hallway towards the next set of doors.

John took a few quick steps then stopped to shout to the man, “Hey, you!”

It wasn’t the best way to get a possible hostiles attention, but John didn’t want to risk letting the man get to the next doors. If he had gotten this far he could possibly get into or at least near the vaults.

At his call the man paused for a step or two, but then he began walking again. Possibly even more quickly than before.

John sighed and quickened his own pace until he’d closed the distance between them. Then he called again, “Hey, you!”

This time the man did stop, staying still, and after a breath turned around to face him.

John hadn’t dated anyone in a while (since he’d gotten back) and in the very dark late time of night he might admit to himself that maybe he did look at both genders, so this man… was a very nice sight.

Longish, curly dark hair, pale face, a ridiculous dramatic long coat that fit him like a glove… unfair was one word. And also mysterious.

But what was most important was what the man was doing back here, in the supposedly secure hallways. John had memorized all the names and faces of the employees, but he didn’t remember the man’s highly recognizable face. And if John had seen it before, he would definitely remember.

The man stood completely still and silent as John walked down the hallway towards him. John tried to move slowly but surely until they were standing a few feet away from each other, not appearing a threat in case the man might attack him.

The two of them stood facing each other, waiting calmly. The man had his hands stuck in the pockets of his long coat, as casually as if he were out for a stroll. John took a breath and clasped his hands together tightly behind his back, pressing the tips of his fingers together to distract himself.

When the silence stretched on John shifted his stance and finally spoke first. “So, my first question… who are you? Next, what are you doing back here?”

Up close the man was even more astonishing looking. Pale, shining eyes, sharp cheekbones with a thin, gaunt face… But the smile currently pulling at his mouth, was strange. It looked like the smile of someone who didn’t normally smile but was trying their best to now. Whatever it was, it didn’t sit well with John. “I’m an employee here. I suppose we haven’t met yet, you must be new. The security guard, yes?”

Nice try, John thought. He laughed quietly and shook his head. “No, try again.”

The man’s expression tightened for a quick, brief moment before the smile returned with a little more tension. “I have as much right to be here as you do. There’s no need to be so hostile.”

John smiled sharply, unclasping his hands to let them fall to his sides. “You’re wrong. You have no right being here.” John glanced carefully at the man, studying him. “You’re not an employee here. Even if I am new, I would remember your face. I know everyone who works here. And,” John took a step closer, “I don’t know you.”

The smile shifted, becoming cooler and more calculating. “You must be mistaken. If I wasn’t an employee, why would I be in this secure area? Customers aren’t allowed back here.”

“That is the question,” John agreed with a nod. “How did you find your way back here? And before you try it I know you aren’t an employee. Especially with no badge and that outfit.”

The man actually looked slightly affronted, tugging on the front of his coat. “All employees are expected to dress respectably for their clientele. With the exception of security guards it seems.”

“That’s more than respectably. And if you are an employee, then let me see your badge,” John challenged and held out his hand.

“Yes, let me see,” the man slid a hand into the front pocket of his jacket, frowned, then looked in the other pocket. “Strange, I-”

John laughed, a little more harshly than he’d meant to. “What, you just happened to have misplaced it in the few seconds since you used it on the doors?” Before the other man could answer John unclipped the radio from his belt and raised it to his mouth. “Hey Jessica?”

The radio crackled then a young woman’s voice replied warmly, “Yes John?”

“Have you ever seen a tall, thin, good-looking man with dark hair dressed like he’s off to the theater in a long, dark expensive coat?” John kept his eyes on the man as he spoke, and it didn’t escape John’s notice how the man seemed to preen at the description. 

“No, I haven’t. I’d definitely remember a guy like that,” Jessica answered, sounding somewhat disappointed. “Can you bring him over so I can get a good look at him?”

“Sorry Jessica, maybe later,” John promised before reclipping the radio to his belt. The man was still there and hadn’t taken the opportunity of John’s distraction to run off, which John found a little surprising. When he looked even more closely the man seemed amused.

“So,” John started, “What’s your story now?”

“Well,” the man replied good-naturedly, maybe even smiling a little now. “Since you’ve bested me so spectacularly, I suppose I have no choice.” He slid a hand in his pocket and withdrew a thin black leather wallet. From one side of the wallet he pulled out a card which he held out to John between two fingers.

John took the card with some skepticism and held it up in front of him. ‘Sherlock Holmes, security consultant.’

He looked up at the man, still holding the card. “‘Security consultant’? There’s no such thing. I don’t think you’re even trying anymore.”

“I am trying,” the man disagreed calmly, taking back the card from out of John’s hand. “I truly am a security consultant. The security manager of this bank hired me to test your security system. I was allowed access to every area of this building in order to do a complete test of the entire system. That’s why you found me in this hallway, on my way from the vaults.”

John considered this explanation for a few seconds, thinking hard. If what he had heard was true, they had been having trouble with security lately. He’d heard there had been at least two attempted break ins the last month. If the manager was smart enough it would make sense for him to hire someone to look into their security. But John had doubts that person would be someone like this man.

“So you have been to the vault then,” John confirmed, stalling for time a little as he thought. “How did you know the access codes for the doors? And trick the card reader on the main door?”

The man- Sherlock, if that was his real name- smiled smugly at him. “Ridiculously easy. I took an access card from one of the employees I passed on my way back here. She may be a nice woman, but her code was simple childs play to figure out. Especially given the hint written on the back of her card. And then, the same code is used for every door.”

“A woman’s badge? Did you really need to steal a card from an employee just to prove how weak our security is?” John sighed and ran a hand over his face. A few heartbeats later he asked quietly, “You figured out a four digit code, out of all the possibilities, just from a hint. All because you were paid to test our system and decided to pretend to be an employee and slip in, instead of all the other ways you could use?”

Sherlock, the ridiculous man, smiled like this was the greatest joke he’d ever heard. “It’s a common method. Any even remotely smart criminal would use the same way for getting in without anyone noticing. Employees are nearly invisible no matter where you are. Then all you have to do is swipe a card and figure out a simple code.”

“Simple,” John agreed with just a note of sarcasm. “Thank goodness you’re here to show us how fallible our system is. Where would we be without you.”

Sherlock half-turned away from him. “I haven’t even had the opportunity to catalog all the weaknesses yet. I’m still completing my test.”

“And that involves breaking into the the vaults? What, just to see how easy it is?” John asked, starting to feel intrigued now despite himself. “We’re lucky you’re on our side.”

Sherlock actually laughed at his comment. “Very lucky. Now, will you allow me to continue my test?”

“I think you’ve done enough.” John said firmly. “You’ve proven you can get into the bank and the vault successfully, without anyone noticing or any complications. Isn’t that what you were hired to do?” He went on without waiting for an answer. “So you were successful, and you can go now.”

Sherlock laughed as if John had amused him with a hilarious answer. “Why would I leave? There are still many supposedly secure features for me to test and prove wrong.”

John’s arm fell back to his side without him really meaning it to. “Why stop now when you’re already enjoying yourself so much?”

For a second Sherlock actually looked surprised for some reason, like he couldn’t tell if John was making fun of him or actually understanding. Then finally the corner of his mouth curled up and he was truly smiling. “Exactly.”

Maybe the man wasn’t so suspicious after all. He was only doing what he’d been hired to do, supposedly, and enjoying himself while doing so. Really, that seemed fairly harmless.

“All right, you don’t necessarily have to leave but you can’t just wander around back here without a guide. Or any identification like a security badge.” John told the man, trying to sound firm and unbudging. “Someone will see you and think you’re up to something. And whoever it is likely won’t be as understanding as I am. For whatever reason I’m humoring you right now.” John stopped and cleared his throat since he hadn’t really meant to say that. He considered then said next, “So first, let’s go back to the security desk and get you a security badge instead of the one you have from whatever poor soul you swiped that.”

Sherlock slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out a familiar white plastic card. He turned it around so John could see the front of the card. A picture of a smiling woman set next to her name with the company name and logo in larger, colorful text, met his eyes.

He couldn’t help it, John laughed and looked back up at Sherlock. “I’m almost sure your name isn’t Wanda. But I suppose I could be wrong.”

“It isn’t,” Sherlock confirmed with a nod. “But she was… kind enough to let me borrow her badge. And, if you had been paying attention, you would remember my name from the card I showed you earlier.”

“Meaning you took it off her when she wasn’t paying attention,” John translated without much heat. He took the badge back and put it in his own pocket. “I’ll give it to her later.”

John took a few steps back along the hallway in the direction he’d come and of the security desk. Then he realized there wasn’t the sound of another set of footsteps following him. He turned to see Sherlock still where John had left him but looking back at him.

“Well, come on then,” John prompted, waving his hand in a vague gesture for Sherlock to follow him. “I’m not going to let you wander off anywhere.”

“I don’t ‘wander off,’” Sherlock protested testily but he did begin walking until he was standing next to John.

John smiled at Sherlock as he came closer, then they both began walking down the hallway together. When the two of them were only feet away from the intersection with the other hallway, the one that led to the main floor, John’s radio crackled to life at his hip.

“John? John!” Jessica’s distorted voice hissed in a soft static shout.

She sounded scared, and there was an edge to her voice usually missing in her bubbly, friendly words. Jessica was a strong girl, but still very young.

John unclipped the radio from his belt and held it up to his mouth. Pressing the button on the side, he spoke into it, “Jessica? What’s wrong, are you all right?”

He released the button, fingers still hovering over the surface, and waited heart pounding for her response. The radio crackled with static bursts once, twice, then there was just silence. No sound at all came from the other end of the line.

John pressed the button again, holding it down, and called, “Jessica? Jess, are you all right?”

A crackle of static then finally, “John? John, if you’re hearing this four people just burst through the doors. There’s four of them, they’re wearing masks and have large guns. They made everyone move to the middle of the room, by the desks. I don’t know what they want, but-”

Over the radio they could hear shouting now in the background as loud, angry shouts by two men. One seemed to be yelling at a group of people and directing them, while another faded in and out as a one-sided discussion with someone else.

“Oh god, oh god,” Jessica’s voice returned, high and panicked as she whispered frantically into the radio. “I think they saw me. They did, they saw me. Shit, shit.”

“Hey you! What’re you doing-?”

“Shit, John please please come soon. I don’t know what they’re going to do-”

“What are you doing with that? Toss it away! Get over there with the others!”

The radio crackled, then fell silent with a loud thud as it hit something hard. John closed his eyes for a moment then reclipped the radio to his belt. He knew there was no use trying to reach her again, by the noise it sounded like the radio was probably broken. And he didn’t want to alert the thieves that there was someone else inside the bank.

What he needed was to come up with a way to get Jessica and the others safely out of this mess. Even now thousands of miles away from Afghanistan and back home where it was supposedly safe, he still found himself in situations like this.

Until now it had just been small things: stopping someone from crossing the road against the light, taking an elderly persons groceries to their car, helping his landlady fix her leaky faucet even though he knew next to nothing about plumbing. Little things he could do to help people and make their a little brighter so someone, at least, was happy.

Today however seemed to be a day of firsts: walking the halls to make sure everything was in order and running smoothly, happening to look at the security feeds just in time to see a man who didn’t quite fit in wandering down a secure hallway, and confronting the man only to find not a hostile but a fascinating brilliant if not a little mouthy man who could get past their system as easily as walking into a grocery store. And now, now... standing here like an idiot while his fellow employees and possibly the customers he was supposed to be protecting faced down four hostile robbers.

"i have to go," John quickly explained to Sherlock, looking at the other man again to find himself being watched intently. John shook it off and continued, "There’s a situation in the lobby I need to take care of."

"You mean the four hostile bank robbers, the three men and one woman, who are currently holding the employees and customers hostage on the main floor?" Sherlock questioned him confidently, as if he knew all of this and what was going to happen already. “The ones planning to hold everyone hostage until they get the money and valuables they’re looking for?”

“Yes…” John agreed reluctantly, “those robbers. I have to go try and protect those people the best I can.” 

He turned and started walking down the rest of the way to the intersection. “Stay here,” John commanded, stopping in the middle of the intersection and turning back to the man. “Don’t go anywhere near the main floor, stay back here where it’s safe and stay quiet.”

The infuriating man just smiled at him and nodded, not exactly giving his agreement but not arguing.

That was enough for John for now. He’d taken the card from him so he couldn’t get back to the vault or anywhere else secure. Hopefully Sherlock would actually do what he was told and stay back here and stay quiet so the robbers wouldn’t know about him.

But he was running out of time, and he had no idea what was happening to the people out on the floor. Whatever happened with Sherlock, John knew he had to get out there now. He needed to help. So he turned his heel and ran down the hallway towards the door leading out to the main floor.


End file.
